


Like The Shotgun (Needs An Outcome)

by skyline



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: Humor, M/M, Smut, hollywood fever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-20
Updated: 2011-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:12:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyline/pseuds/skyline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kendall gets Hollywood Fever. James fixes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like The Shotgun (Needs An Outcome)

It starts like this:  
  
Kendall is standing in the hallway on his floor. He’s about to hit up the local ice rink, because it’s been a sweltering summer and he’s beginning to feel insanity creep up his spine like spider legs. The band’s got a big tour scheduled to start come July, and the last thing that he needs is a dose of Hollywood Fever.  
  
He’s not entirely sure how it would affect him, but he doesn’t want to turn into a huge stoner.  
  
Or a Jennifer.  
  
Or dye himself orange. He’s perfectly happy with his skin tone, thank you very much.  
  
So he’s standing in the hall, equipment duffel at his feet, flicking through songs until he finds his adrenaline jam. Right when his finger’s hovering over the play button, he hears girlish giggling from what sounds like that new, hot girl in 2E and her equally hot friend. And a Jennifer, for once without the other two.  
  
Kendall’s pretty sure that it is a biological anomaly for one of those harpies to function without the pack.  
  
Someone should film it for the Discovery Channel.  
  
The Jennifers scare him a little bit. They have ever since the time they stole all of his flannel shirts and burned them in the bonfire pit. James said they were obviously championing for fashion.   
  
Carlos said psychotic behavior didn’t make them any less hot.  
  
Logan kept his mouth quiet about the whole thing, but Kendall thinks that’s mostly because he agreed with James. Which Kendall finds highly hypocritical of him, considering that Logan dresses like he just escaped from prep school.  
  
Anyway, the hot new girl is saying, “-James Diamond-” which makes Kendall pause. He really wants to listen to his Get Pumped playlist, but at the same time, he feels like eavesdropping is the way to go here. James has been dying to bang the new chick since the second she stepped foot in the lobby, and Kendall bets he’ll offer up a week of dish duty for some really good reconnaissance.  
  
Kendall pulls his beanie down low over his eyebrows and leans casually into the wall, trying for incognito. The girl continues “-has a bangin’ body. His abs look like they’re made of stone.”  
  
Kendall frowns because, okay, not exactly intelligence that’s going to get him out of dishwashing. James _knows_ he has a bangin’ body. He’s made a point of informing Kendall that he’s built like a Greek god ever since they covered mythology in the fourth grade. James stares at himself in the mirror for hours at a time, cataloguing every hard angle of it. He goes so far as to show it off to perfect strangers without even being prompted. This is not _news._  
  
“God, yes.” The new girl’s fine friend practically moans. “Can you imagine what it would be like to hit that?”  
  
Jennifer chimes in, “I do imagine. Often.” Her voice gets all shivery and she says, “In the pool. In the elevator. In the lobby.”  
  
The new girl laughs and says, “I’ve got this one ongoing fantasy where he just pushes me up against a wall and-“  
  
Kendall slams his finger onto the play button, a percussion drum filling his ears.  
  
He can feel his cheeks burning bright red and he isn’t completely sure why. It’s not like he’s going to win any awards for chastity. He hasn’t been a virgin since he tapped his lab partner in the chemistry closet during free period a month before they moved to California. And it’s not like he’s surprised that girls have voracious appetites for sex or anything. He has listened in on Camille’s free love speeches more than once.  
  
But- the way they were talking about James is just. Wow. He trembles.  
  
They didn’t even say anything explicit. It’s just that now he has this _image_ in his head of James shoving some nameless, faceless female against sheetrock. He’s got this perfect picture of the way her legs would wrap around James’s hips and the way she’d sigh as he pushes inside of her.  
  
Kendall’s thinking about James’s face, about the kind of expression he makes when he comes and- _fuck_.  
  
Suddenly the nameless, faceless female isn’t nameless, faceless, or _female_.  
  
The blueprint of how their bodies fit together is different, but almost hotter. Kendall would have to brace himself against painted plaster, push his hips out while James snakes a hand around his waist and- No. _What_ is he thinking?  
  
Kendall turns the music up so high that he’s reasonably certain he’s going to blow out an eardrum, but it still doesn’t make the idea of James’s hands like fire on his skin go away.  
  
He doesn’t end up going to the rink.  
  
He’s too busy barricading himself into the bathroom in the middle of the day like a thirteen year old boy, jerking off to thoughts of James fucking him until he can’t see straight.

\---

Kendall decides that Hollywood Fever has set in full force. That has to be it, right? Because he’s never had a wayward thought about any of his friends before. He’s never once looked at them and thought, _damn_ , I’d like to see what kind of faces they make in bed.  
  
Sure, there was that time in kindergarten where he told his mom that Carlos was the person he was going to marry when he grew up.  
  
And there was that one week in fifth grade when he decided that girls were kind of bitchy and _what was the big deal about boobs_ , _anyway_ , and forced Logan to experiment with him behind the gym.  
  
And there were all the times that Kendall inadvertently checked James out in the showers after practice, but those girls were right, dangit. James is _fantastic_ looking. But _looking_ doesn’t mean anything.  
  
Kendall likes to look at Brazilian bikini models, but that doesn’t mean that he wants to- wait. Bad example.  
  
Kendall likes to look at tigers at the zoo, but it doesn’t mean he’s interested in bestiality.  
  
He wouldn’t mind cuddling with them, though. Tigers are fluffy and adorable.  
  
Anyway, he figures that his friends owe him one. He saved them from lives of pot-smoking, fedora-wearing oranginess, so why wouldn’t they want to return the favor?  
  
Only, when he goes to Logan and says, “I have the Fever,” Logan does not look suitably impressed by the gravity of the situation.  
  
“I don’t think so.”  
  
“What makes you such an expert?”  
  
Logan gives him a _look_ and sighs.  
  
“Okay. Fine. Tell Doctor Logan your symptoms.” Logan pats a spot on the couch where there is just enough room between his physics text and his tiny ass that Kendall can probably squeeze in, but-  
  
He realizes that telling Logan his symptoms will involve talking about his fantasies.  
  
His fantasies revolving around James.  
  
Naked.  
  
Kendall decides that maybe he needs to tackle this problem a different way. He goes to Carlos and says, “I’ve got the Fever.”  
  
Carlos squints at him and asks, “Do you want me to take you shoe shopping?”  
  
“No. _Why_ would I want to do that?”  
  
“It’s fun.”  
  
Kendall considers.  
  
“Yeah, okay.”  
  
He might as well try out whatever he can.

\---

  
He’s standing in the middle of a row of imported Italian leather oxfords when he tells Carlos, “This isn’t helping.”  
  
“Really?” Carlos frowns down at the large bag of shoes he’s already purchased. “We could try something else. Want to egg Matthew McConaughey’s house?”  
  
“Gustavo would like that too much.”  
  
“Want to egg _Gustavo’s_ house?” Kendall weighs the cons of dying with the pros of forgetting about how much he wants to get James’s mouth around his dick.  
  
“I can get behind that.”  
  
So they throw eggs at Gustavo’s mansion until he comes home early from the studio- which is pretty much an unheard of occurrence. Kendall decides that he’s going to have to have words with Kelly if Gustavo doesn’t kill them with that baseball bat first.

\---

  
They end up in singing boot camp for an entire week.  
  
Kendall is seventeen years old and definitely not built for fifteen hour work days.  
  
“Isn’t it illegal to torture of prisoners of war?” He groans to James and Logan, who are both resolutely not talking to him.  
  
Except to say, “This is your fault.”  
  
Logan’s pissed that they’ve gotten him in trouble, again.  
  
James is just mad that he wasn’t in on the action.    
  
Which makes Kendall start thinking about action _with_ James, and he’s wrong about boot camp being torture. It’s the part where he’s squeezed into a sound booth that’s half the size of a very small bathroom that’s equivalent to waterboarding. James is pressed up against the front of Kendall while he sings this one verse and his ass is perfectly lined up with Kendall’s dick and- this is a problem.  
  
Kendall is painfully, achingly hard in his jeans, and if James moves even an inch he’s going to feel it. Kendall has never been very big on praying because he’s a big believer in charting your own destiny, but right now he’s begging any deity who happens to be listening that James won’t budge.  
  
There is no god.  
  
James moves. His voice cuts off halfway through the verse and he turns, staring at Kendall in blatant shock. He doesn’t have time to say anything because Gustavo is yelling into the mic and James has to pick up where he left off, immediately. But Kendall feels like it’s probably a temporary reprieve in what’s sure to be a gigantic catastrophe.  
  
He stares miserably at the back of his best friend’s neck and wonders why his penis decided that now is the opportune time to start acting like it’s just figured out what it’s meant for. He hasn’t been this horny or wretched since he first became a teenager and thought kitchen tile was sexy.

\---

  
James confronts him in his room. Kendall knows it’s coming before it happens; subtle is not James’s style.  
  
James tries for casual, but when he asks, “So, what was up with that boner you popped today?” it mostly sounds a little awkward.  
  
Which is weird, because James is a master flirt. Kendall’s never seen him stumble around words with girls, but he figures he should cut him a break. Boys are probably new territory for him.  
  
Especially boys who shared his sleeping bag when they went camping back in elementary school.  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
“You told Carlos and Logan you had Hollywood Fever,” James says, and it sounds like an accusation. Kendall feels a little guilty.  
  
James is big on reciprocation. Kendall did whatever he could to save James from a life of being mangerine, but Kendall didn’t even let James know he was having a problem. He can see how that would bother him.  
  
“Um. Yeah.”  
  
“So what are your symptoms? Surprise erections?” James guesses, teasing a little. Kendall stares at his mouth, shame burning in his veins.  
  
“Sure. Let’s go with that.”  
  
“Wait, you’re _serious_?” James looks awed.  
  
“Isn’t that what you came here to talk about?”  
  
“No, man, I just wanted to ask you about the Fever thing. I mean, I was joking before when I said- I figured you were just- I don’t know. Looking down the front of Kelly’s shirt again. That’s really what’s happening? You just get hard for no reason?”  
  
Kendall looks away.  
  
“Have you tried- you know?”  
  
“Constantly.” Kendall groans, falling back onto his bed. “It’s awful.”  
  
“Fuck, dude. That’s- maybe we can buy you some self tanner and see if you get addicted to that instead?”  
  
“Probably not going to work.”  
  
Kendall buries his face in his pillow and tries not to look at how tight James’s jeans are. The designer who made them is obviously inhumane.  
  
“Have you tried getting with a girl? That might help.”  
  
“Oh yeah?” He cracks open one eye, peering up at James. “What girl?”  
  
“Jo?”  
  
“Jo and I broke up two months ago.” Kendall frowns. “You know that.”  
  
“But maybe if you told her- your problem, she’d like-“  
  
“Give me a pity fuck? Thanks. Your faith in me is appreciated. Anyway,” he mutters, “Jo won’t help.”  
  
“You don’t know that. She’s a sweet girl.”  
  
“No, I mean- having sex with _her_ won’t help.”  
  
“Wait- so, there’s someone who will?”  
  
“What? I didn’t say that.”  
  
“You indicated you have a specific person in mind.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“You do! Tell me.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Tell me,” James insists.  
  
“There’s no one.”  
  
“Tell. Me.” James emphasizes his point by practically straddling Kendall and okay, that is certainly _not_ helpful. Thank god he’s lying on his side, because his dick is at least partially paying attention to this scenario.  
  
“Get off.”  
  
“You’re going to tell me,” James says, and then he’s digging his fingertips into Kendall’s ribs, tickling him until he has no choice but to twist his body, thrusting upwards and _he will not surrender to these terrorist tactics_ , but suddenly James’s hips are flat against his and-  
  
When the sparks clear from behind Kendall’s eyes he sees James, staring down at him with this completely inscrutable expression. His fingers are still resting against Kendall’s ribs, but the tickle onslaught has stopped. Tentatively, James reaches a hand down between them, cupping his hand over Kendall’s now _very_ interested cock.  
  
James doesn’t say anything, but his eyes get that wide, dazed look he sometimes has when he’s thinking really hard about something. Kendall tries not to move or breathe, because James’s fingers are a light pressure against his hard on and even though he wants to buck up into the touch, he thinks he might physically die if James draws away. From lust or embarrassment; his brain is way too frazzled to decide which.  
  
James seems to come to a decision, because now his fingers are stroking a line down the shape of Kendall through his jeans. Kendall can’t help arching into it, can’t help the noise deep in his chest when James squeezes before fumbling with his zipper.  
  
It’s the best thing ever when James gets his fingers up under the material of Kendall’s jeans, through the opening in the front of his plaid boxers. James leans in and kisses the hollow of Kendall’s throat, mouth closing around his Adam’s apple as his fingers simultaneously wrap tight around Kendall’s dick.  
  
It’s not enough. It’s not even _close_ to enough. Even when James begins to stroke him lazily, his tongue hot on Kendall’s neck, Kendall needs so much more.  
  
He fists his hands in James’s hair, yanking his head up until he can reach his mouth, until he can crush their lips together desperately. He can feel James filling out in his jeans, those stupid jeans that are so tight that it must hurt. Kendall decides the friendly thing to do here would be to help him out, and he lets go of James’s hair, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck to keep him close, to keep his tongue inside of Kendall’s mouth while the other starts working open the front of his pants.  
  
The comforter’s a pain, tangling around his ankles, so Kendall kicks it off of the bed. James’s hand is still working hot and tight around him, but their bodies are pressed together now and he seems to be having trouble moving. Kendall wants to be helpful, so he begins to shimmy his pants down his hips with one hand. He has trouble trying to take his boxers with him, because James still has his palm on Kendall’s cock, but after a moment of indecision, James moves it away.  
  
Which is kind of dismaying, but then his hand’s squeezing Kendall’s ass, fingers creeping towards his entrance, and Kendall can work with that. He worms his way out of his jeans and moves onto James’s. James is being mostly uncooperative, more focused on fingering the skin around Kendall’s asshole than on getting naked, but Kendall shows him how to prioritize, pulling James’s pants and underwear down just enough that their skin can slide together, dicks slick with pre-come.  
  
James dips his finger into Kendall, soft, probing. It’s strange, but not unwelcome. When James sees that Kendall’s not leaping out of bed, he pushes in a second digit. Slowly, he works his fingertips inside of Kendall’s ass, feeling around, stretching. By the time he adds a third, Kendall’s bored with this going slow business. He fucks back against James’s fingers, because even though the stretch burns, even though it’s uncomfortable, when he hits this one angle it’s like dry lightning sparking inside of him.  
  
He fumbles for a bottle of lube from his nightstand, conveniently placed because of how much he’s been jacking off lately. Chafing: Kendall is not a fan. James stares at him, a little shocked, and Kendall wiggles his butt to let James know that, hi, he’s still kind of impaled on James's fingers here.  
  
“Are you- you really want to?” James asks.  
  
“Duh,” Kendall says, exasperated. He flicks open the snap top of the lube, gesturing for James to get going already. The face James makes at him is not one that Kendall ever imagined being part of his bedroom repertoire, but Kendall thinks that there’s very little James could ever do to make himself unattractive.  
  
Plus James is still moving his fingers inside of Kendall, his other hand busy sliding over his own dick, and yeah. This is good. Kendall is a big supporter of this.  
  
When the head of James’s cock nudges up against Kendall’s ass, he’s not sure how to feel. It’s burning hot and foreign weight, and having James hovering over him while he’s bent at this strange ass angle is kind of intimidating. The kid’s skinny, but he’s build like- well, a hockey player.  
  
James starts out slow, painstakingly entering him and no, this part is not fun at all. Kendall figures it has to get better, so he tries rocking his hips down. Which. James growls and nips Kendall’s lower lip, pushing all the way in like he can’t fucking help himself. It’s a sharp sting and a heat storm, all at the same time.  
  
James draws back, and Kendall can feel every inch of him against his skin, inside and out, and then he’s back again, fast and hard and shit, it’s like electricity and he wants, needs that again, harder. He doesn’t even have to say please, because James is already thrusting into him again, and again and Kendall doesn’t think anything has ever been this good, not ever.  
  
He digs his fingertips into James’s shoulders, breathing harsh. In the shadowy spaces between them Kendall can see James’s hips snap, can almost imagine what James's dick looks like thrusting into his ass, and he feels like he cannot possibly get any harder than he is at this exact moment. James’s hand is warm on Kendall’s thigh, and he shifts, adjusting the angle until Kendall’s wondering who painted his bedroom ceiling with stars.  
  
“Kendall,” James says, voice needy, his rhythm speeding up. The hand on Kendall’s thigh moves to Kendall’s dick, stroking along the shaft too slow to match the way James is pounding into him. With every rocking movement, Kendall can feel James’s balls slap up against his flesh, dick deeper inside of him than he ever thought was possible and he doesn’t get why everyone doesn’t do this, just this, all the time. He’s clawing frantically at James’s shoulders, trying to rock into the callused hand around his cock while simultaneously trying to fuck back onto James, their breathing timed like a song between them. He’s distantly aware that the bed’s hitting the wall and wow, that is going to be intensely difficult to explain to the rest of the apartment later but who the fuck even cares about that when he’s got James hot and hard over him, scorching his insides. He’s watching the way Kendall moves with dark, possessive eyes, the hand on his dick twisting faster now, faster.  
  
There’s this noise that might be coming from Kendall’s chest, it might be his heart or his lungs or his whole body screaming James’s name, breathy and helpless when he spills over the edge. Whatever it is, it makes James tense up and seconds later he’s shuddering against Kendall, coming long and hard while Kendall shivers through the aftershocks of his own orgasm.  
  
James collapses on top of him with a groan, not bothering to care that he’s crushing some of Kendall’s vital parts here. Kendall finds that he doesn’t really mind. It’s not like he plans on using any of them for at least the next fifteen minutes, sore and fucked out but still kind of eager to do that again.  
  
Can they do that again? Will James let him?  
  
Five minutes must pass before James lifts his head, chin resting against Kendall’s chest when he asks, “So. Fever gone?”  
  
“Honestly?” Kendall grins, and he feels James’s dick twitch against his leg, which probably means he’s willing to go at least one more round, if not lock them both in this room for the next week. Which would totally be Kendall’s plan if he didn’t think Logan or Carlos or god forbid his mom would put a quick end to it. “I think it might be getting worse.”  
  
James blinks.  
  
Kendall cranes his neck down to kiss him, and when James doesn’t pull back he murmurs, “Cure me?”  
  
James laughs against his mouth and says, “ _Delighted_ to.”


End file.
